


A Brood of Dragons

by bluegoldrose



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Book: The World of Ice and Fire, F/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-15
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-02-25 11:10:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2619590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluegoldrose/pseuds/bluegoldrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The marriage between King Aerys II and Queen Rhaella was seldom a happy one, but their five healthy sons were a joy to both parents.</p><p>The World of Ice and Fire AU, in which the named children who died in infancy survived.  Reading TWOIAF is not necessary to understand this story, as all relevant information is in chapter 1.</p><p>The story begins a year after the Tournament at Harrenhal and from there does not follow canon.  Targaryen centered.</p><p>This story is mostly a family drama.  Not heavily focused on politics or warfare. No incest shown although it is acknowleged in the line of House Targaryen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prelude

**Author's Note:**

> So in reading the World of Ice and Fire I was pondering over several things. I read about Aerys and Rhaella and was fascinated by how much new information was contained within.
> 
> I was drawn to the story of Rhaella's still born and short lived children and I wanted to explore the idea of several more children living. What changes would occur? Would Aerys not be as crazy? Would Rhaegar steal Lyanna? This story is the result of those ponderings.
> 
> The names of the children here are the names given in the book. I changed the birth years of the two born after Rhaegar for story purposes, the others are born at their canon times.
> 
> The quality of the story improves at Chapter 5.

The marriage of King Aerys and Queen Rhaella was, from all accounts, not a happy one.  He was seldom faithful or devoted to his wife.  She raised their children well, but seldom smiled at her husband.  Their earliest years were not easy.  With the tragedy of Summerhall and the death of King Jaehaerys II in 262, their first married years were filled with death.  Upon those deaths was the fact that after Prince Rhaegar’s birth Rhaella miscarried thrice, one mere months after Aerys was crowned as King Aerys II.

Princess Shaena Targaryen’s birth in 265, and Prince Daeron’s the following year, were of great relief to the Queen and joy to all the people.  The new-born prince and princess were strong and healthy.  There were more still-births and short lived infants after their births until Prince Aegon’s birth in 272.  Prince Jaehaerys followed in 274 and Prince Viserys in 276.

Prince Rhaegar and his sister Princess Shaena were planned to wed in the traditions of Valyria and the Targaryen family.  Fate, however, cut short the princess’s life.  In 275, Princess Shaena drowned off the coast of Dragonstone, swept out to sea by the strong currents.

With no Targaryen princesses for Prince Rhaegar to wed, Lord Steffon Baratheon was tasked to find a bride for the Heir to the Iron Throne.  He searched Westeros and Essos, but alas, no women were found in Essos who were considered worthy enough to wed the Prince of Dragonstone.  Tragically, Lord Baratheon, cousin to the King, and his wife died in a shipwreck on their voyage home.

So it came to pass that in 279, Prince Rhaegar was betrothed to Princess Elia Martell of Dorne.  She was a lovely young woman, though her health was delicate.  A year later they married, and before the year was out, their daughter Rhaenys was born.

The following year was a year of springtime betwixt two seasons of winter.  In high spirits the royal court travelled to Harrenhal for jousts and revelry.  On the very first day of the festivities, King Aerys II welcomed Ser Jaime Lannister, a boy of fifteen years, into the Kingsguard.  The boy was sent King’s Landing the same day.

Amongst the many highborn guests were Cersei Lannister, Ser Jaime’s twin, the four children of Lord Rickard Stark, Lord Robert Baratheon, and Prince Oberyn Martell.  There were a great many young women of noble houses in attendance, hoping to win the attentions of the four unwed Targaryen princes, though Princes Jaehaerys and Viserys were not in attendance.

During the first days of the joust, a mystery knight appeared on the field.  The knight wore ill-fitting armor and held a shield depicting a laughing weirwood tree.  The King ordered that the knight be found and unmasked, but he disappeared.  Prince Rhaegar presented his father with the shield of the knight, saying that he had found it in the nearby woods.

The days wore on, and the final joust was won by Prince Rhaegar.  He held aloft a crown of blue roses for the Queen of Love and Beauty.  He rode to the stands where his wife sat, but continued past her and laid the wreath of flowers in Lyanna Stark’s lap.  The crowds became uncomfortably silent as the Prince and young Lyanna looked at one another.  A moment later the Prince rode off the field, and the crowds began to mutter wildly.

A year later the awkwardness of Prince Rhaegar’s choice was all but forgotten.  Princess Elia bore him a son on Dragonstone.  The boy was named Aemon.  Prince Rhaegar had wanted to name the boy Aegon, but did not do so to avoid confusion with his younger brother.  A short time after the Prince’s birth, Prince Rhaegar left for the capitol.

Between Prince Rhaegar’s arrival in King’s Landing and his departure from Dragonstone, Lady Lyanna Stark was abducted in the Riverlands.  Those who were witnesses to her abduction swore that her captor was Prince Rhaegar.  Everyone who had been at the Tourney at Harrenhal knew that the Prince had given her the crown of roses.  Like wildfire word spread across Westeros that Prince Rhaegar had stolen Lyanna Stark.

Rumors, however, are not always true.  Moments that breed gossip are not always what they seem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a short prologue, the other chapters will not be so short.
> 
> I admit that with me writing three other fics that I should not be starting a fourth, but the idea will not leave me so I gave in and went for it... I make no promises for updates, though I want to have a chapter or two added soon as they are in my head presently. I know where I want the story to go and how I want characters to behave, so if you like the tale let me know and I hope that you can be patient with me!


	2. Tempting Fate

The stale salt air from the bay hit Rhaegar’s nostrils like a bout of flux.  He preferred Dragonstone to King’s Landing and often considered moving the capital whenever he became king.  He would have lingered with his bride and children at Dragonstone, but he had promised Jaehaerys that he would be present for his name day.  Rhaegar would have willingly allowed his brothers to stay with him on Dragonstone, but their father was unwilling to allow them to visit the island since Princess Shaena’s death.

The air was growing warmer which meant that the stench of the city would grow stronger.  ‘ _Perhaps I should raze and rebuild the city so that it smells less,’_ he mused.  He and his companions rode from the Mud Gate to the Red Keep.  Their pace was slow, and Rhaegar waved to the smallfolk, letting them touch his hand as he passed them.  To some he gave coins and to others he gave kind words.  They were his people, and they loved him.

The crowds thinned as they ascended Aegon’s Hill.  They were nearly at the gates of the Red Keep when the sound of hoof beats racing along the cobblestone streets caused Rhaegar and his men to turn around.  Five men were galloping toward the gates at an alarming pace.  Guards approached from the Keep, weapons in hand.  Rhaegar’s hand instinctively went to rest upon the hilt of his sword.

“Where is she,” the man at the head of the intruders shouted.

They slowed and paced their horses before the Prince and his guards when they neared.  “Brandon Stark,” Rhaegar questioned once he realized who the screaming man was.  “What are you shouting about?”  He did not remove his hand from his sword, but he did not draw his weapon either.

“Lyanna, you took her!”

“Did I?”  Rhaegar gazed at the angry northman curiously.  “When, may I ask did this happen?”

Brandon released the hilt of his sword, and clenched his hand into a fist.  “Four weeks past,” he hissed.

Rhaegar smiled easily, attempting to diffuse the situation.  “Then I am afraid that you have the wrong man.  I just arrived from Dragonstone.  Why do you accuse me of taking your sister?”

He set his jaw firmly, the muscles in his neck tensing.  “She was taken from Maidenpool.  She was on her way to Riverrun for my wedding.  Every description of the man who took her... After Harrenhal...”

If the situation were not so serious, Rhaegar would have laughed. He remembered Lyanna Stark, the wild and lovely daughter of Lord Rickard Stark. She had cried at the song he had played on his harp. She had danced for hours with his brother Daeron. She had dressed herself in armor and rode in the jousts. Daeron had told him that Lyanna was the mystery knight, and Rhaegar crowned her to acknowledge her talents.  “I can explain Harrenhal to you as I did to my wife Elia.  I gave the crown of roses to her as a gift for her participation in the joust.  She was the mystery knight, if you were still unaware of that. Crowning her was a jest, nothing more.  If the man you seek truly matches my description, have you not stopped to consider my brother Daeron?  He and your sister are of an age and he was quite taken with her at Harrenhal.”

“Daeron,” Brandon muttered, as though the wind had been taken from his lungs.

“Come into the Keep with me and we will seek after my brother.”  Rhaegar held Brandon’s gaze, and the man nodded numbly.  At a wave of his hand, the guards sheathed their weapons and stood at attention.  Together, the companions of Prince Rhaegar and Brandon Stark entered the Red Keep.

After they dismounted in the stables, Rhaegar grabbed Brandon by the shirt and shoved him against a wall.  “Are you insane,” he hissed.  “If I had not been present to meet you what would you have done?  Demanded to fight me?  Your head would decorate the wall above the Keep.”

“I would die to defend my sister.”  Brandon clawed at the Prince’s hands.  His men moved nearer but made no move to defend him.

“You may yet get that chance.  Now will you work with me, or will I have to kill you?”

The Heir of Winterfell stiffened.  “Find my sister, my prince.”

Rhaegar released him, and nodded solemnly.  “Wait in the courtyard while I arrange rooms for you and your men.  I will see what is known about your sister.”

* * *

Brandon paced in the courtyard for nearly an hour before he finally sat on a bench.  His men remained quiet throughout their period of waiting, and Brandon was in no mood to speak.  Eventually, a servant arrived to escort them to rooms within the castle.  It was to those rooms that they were confined for three days without any news or visit from the Prince of Dragonstone.  Their every need was met, except for their need for information and freedom.

Early in the morning of the fourth day a steward appeared and escorted them from their rooms to a drawing room.  A table was laid with food and drink.  Already seated were Queen Rhaella and Prince Rhaegar.  Brandon and his men knelt before them.

“Arise,” Rhaella commanded gently but firmly.  “Eat with us.”  The men stood and seated themselves at the table.  They ate readily, but Brandon pushed most of his food around without eating a bite.  “My son has told me about why you have graced us with your presence.  I would have met with you earlier, but we were celebrating Prince Jaehaerys’s name day.”  She paused to sip her wine, all the while casting a hard gaze upon each of her guests, but most especially at Brandon.  “I understand that you are concerned for the safety of your sister.  You will understand that as a mother and as Queen, I am protective of my children and my subjects.  My son Daeron was last seen in Maidenpool at the time your sister disappeared.  Naturally, we are concerned for his safety and your sister’s.  This is why I wanted to meet with you.”

Brandon could feel the weight of her gaze upon him.  Her amethyst eyes were hard and cold. “Thank you for meeting with us, your grace.”

“The King is aware that you are here out of concern for your sister.  He felt that the situation was not important enough to warrant his presence.  Rhaegar will be leading a group of our own men to search for his brother and your sister.  You and your men are welcomed to accompany him.”

Brandon released a heavy breath.  “You are very gracious, my queen.”

“It seems that graciousness and prudence are traits which you must yet learn.  You would do well to learn from your intemperance.”  Scarcely a breath passed before she stood and swept from the room.

Rhaegar drained his goblet and cast a grim gaze upon Brandon.  “My father does not know that you nearly drew your sword or that you accused me of taking your sister.”

“Your mother does?”

“She very nearly wanted your head, but in the name of peace, she has agreed that we should work together.”

“You have my gratitude.  I wish to apologize for my rashness.”

Rhaegar smirked.  “We have all done foolish things, though I have never threatened my overlord before.  Eat up, we leave at mid-day.”

“Where are we going?”

“I have a few ideas of where my brother may have gone.”

“Do I get a hint of where that might be?”

Rhaegar shook his head, spilling his silver hair across his shoulders.  “You are in my custody Lord Stark.  Perhaps it is time that you learned to follow your Prince.”


	3. Close, But Not Quite There

Lyanna Stark laughed herself breathless as Prince Daeron tickled her sides.  When she could bear it no more, she grabbed his hands and kissed him hard.  His attentions were easily switched from tickling her to kissing her with ardor.  There was a light mist falling from the sky, drifting onto them even as they were sheltered beneath broken pillars.  Summerhall, once a second home for House Targaryen, was their refuge against the elements.

He pulled away and brushed damp tendrils of her hair behind her ears.  He kissed her again, gently.  "We need to go inside before we fall ill from the weather."

"How could we possibly fall ill from the rain when the air is still so warm?"

"This is warm to you?"

She laughed, her eyes alive with merriment. "I am a Stark, cold is when there is snow on the ground."

He caressed her cheek and neck tenderly.  "You are a Targaryen now, and we dragons prefer the warmth."

"Well then, we should away inside before your flames are extinguished, my dragon."

She slipped her hand in his, and led him back to the entry of the ruins.  Much of Summerhall had no roof or walls, but some areas were still well sheltered. Inside one of the buildings which had been untouched by the fires that destroyed the rest of the palace was where they were resting.  Already inside were six of their eight companions. Ser Jaime Lannister had been guarding the door, watching them as was his duty as a Kingsguard.  Sers Jacaerys and Lucerys Velaryon were tending the fire and preparing their dinner.  Seated in the room, playing a game of cards were Sers Brynden Sunglass, Crispian Celtigar, and Alyn Blackwood.  Tending their horses outside were Sers Edwyn Lychester and Jon Mooton.  All eight men were assigned to the protection of Prince Daeron, and by extension to Lyanna Stark, the wife of Prince Daeron. 

When the men finished making the evening meal, all ten companions gathered together in the main chamber.  They ate their fill and spoke for hours.  Each of the men regaled Princess Lyanna with stories of their knighthoods and the men they had fought against.  The oldest of the men told tales of their fathers fighting in the War of the Ninepenny Kings.  Ser Jaime told the tale of fighting against the Kingswood Brotherhood beside Ser Arthur Dayne.  Late in the evening, after much laughter and many stories, they all retired for the night.

Ser Crispian was assigned the task of guarding the entrance to the rooms while the rest slept.  The guardians of the prince and princess slept upon bedrolls in the common room where they had eaten.  Daeron and Lyanna slept in an adjacent room for privacy and safety.

"We should return to the cities soon," Daeron murmured into her hair.  They were curled together upon a makeshift bed.

A grunt of displeasure emerged from her lips.  "Whenever we reappear we will have to face our fathers."

"Unless we run to the Free Cities we will have to face our fathers.  We are also running low on supplies."

"Where should we go?"

Sensing defeat in her voice he kissed the back of her neck.  "We could travel to Highgarden or we could continue south to Dorne.  We should marry in a sept somewhere.  We have yet to wed in the Faith."

She laughed lightly at that.  "Neither of us follow the Faith.  We wed before the old gods and by Valyrian custom.  I fail to see how marrying in the Faith matters."

"Most of Westeros follows the Faith.  My house has deigned to be devout to the Faith so that our people are happy."

"Then as your wife and princess I will marry you again."

She shifted so that she was facing the ceiling.  He could sense her smile even in the dark. He bent down and pressed his lips to hers.  She reached her arms around his neck and pulled him close.  As they rolled together on the makeshift bed, he knew that he would never tire of his wild she-wolf.

From the moment he had laid eyes on her at the Tournament at Harrenhal he had wanted her.  She had cried at his brother’s song, but she had danced with him.  She had danced with him for hours.  She was graceful, vibrant, and so full of fire.  Every story he had heard of the North and House Stark spoke of ice and winter, but she was fire and so was he.  He stole a kiss from her that night when he walked her to her rooms.  He knew that she was betrothed, but he did not care.  To his surprise, she kissed him back.  A few nights later she confessed that she was the mystery knight and he laughed with her at the secret they shared.  When his father sought the truth of the knight, she gave him her shield and he gave the shield to Rhaegar.  He told Rhaegar the truth about Lyanna, and the brothers agreed to keep the secret.

They had parted Harrenhal with a final kiss.  Then they wrote to one another for months.  Eventually the time came for her brother to wed.  She was traveling to Maidenpool, having visited her brother Eddard in Gulltown before traveling to Riverrun for her brother Brandon’s wedding.  Daeron and his men rode to Maidenpool to meet her, and they ran away together.

* * *

It was early morning on the first day of the third week since their departure from King's Landing that they reached the ruins of Summerhall.  Brandon had been permitted to write and send letters before they left.  One went to his father, Lord Rickard Stark, explaining that he and Prince Rhaegar were going to search for Lyanna and Daeron.  A second letter went to Eddard, stating much the same information.  A third letter went to Riverrun informing Lord Hoster Tully and his daughter Catelyn of the same, as well as apologizing for the delay of the wedding.

"This is Summerhall, is it not," Brandon asked the Prince of Dragonstone.

"Yes," he replied, slowing his horse to an easy walk.  "I was born here the same day the palace was destroyed by fire."  He paused, gazing solemnly upon the ruins that had been his family's summer dwelling.  "Daeron loves this place, he would have been the Prince of Summerhall, at least until my son was born.  To me the ruins have always seemed too much like a tomb.  So many lives were lost here.  If not for myself and my brothers, our line would have ended here."

Brandon gazed silently at Prince and at the ruins.  House Targaryen’s tragedy lay within the broken remains of this once grand palace.  “Do you think that he would have come here with my sister?”

Rhaegar laughed.  “They might have run away to Volantis.  Never have I met two more impulsive people than Daeron and Lyanna.  Although you may be a in the running for third place.”

“So you took me and my men all the way to Summerhall on a guess?”

He tossed his hair behind his shoulder and glanced sideways at Brandon.  “I did say that Daeron loves this place.  There were also rumors that he and his men had been seen traveling south.”

Brandon shook his head and spurred his horse toward the ruins.

They searched the ruins for hours before they found traces that there had been people living within a relatively intact portion of the ruins quite recently.  They found horse droppings, food waste, and cinders in a fire pit.

“There were several horses here,” Jon Connington informed Rhaegar when all of the men regrouped.  “It appears that they were here not that long ago, though there is no way for us to know who the riders were or where they went.”

Brandon hit a nearby pillar with the palm of his hand.  The Prince gazed at him with amusement.  “Why do you seem to find this funny, my prince?  My sister and your brother are missing.”

“I find you amusing.  I do not find our situation to be humorous in the slightest.”  Rhaegar turned to all of the men.  “We will rest here tonight.  In the morning we will break into smaller groups.  I do not believe that they would travel into the Stormlands.  One group will head south, following the Boneway and asking about any recent travelers down the road.  Another group will travel Ashford, Cider Hall, and Highgarden.  The third group will travel to Grassy Vale and Bitterbridge.  If you learn nothing, return to King’s Landing.  There is no use in all of us wasting our time futilely searching for people who do not wish to be found.  They will show up eventually, if for no other reason than my brother’s guardians will not want to face my father’s wrath.”

All of the men muttered their agreements.  They secured their horses and prepared to rest for the night.

Brandon was still frustrated by the lack of knowledge.  His initial fear for his sister’s safety and well-being was gradually fading into a general sense of anger with his little sister.  From the story Rhaegar had shared with him, Brandon suspected that Lyanna had run away with Prince Daeron.  Run away...  He should have been married for nearly a month and his sister had seen fit to run away, delaying his wedding to Lady Catelyn Tully.

He suspected that even though Rhaegar was consistently calm regarding the entire situation, that he was also annoyed with his younger brother.  Prince Rhaegar’s son was still an infant, most likely Rhaegar wanted to be home with his wife and children.  How had they both been cursed with such willfully impulsive younger siblings?

In the morning, Rhaegar and Brandon set off with some of their men to Grassy Vale and Bitterbridge.  The rest of the men split off in their prescribed directions.  With any luck, they would be able to find some word of Daeron and Lyanna.


	4. The Guilty Pair

They found the guilty pair at Bitterbridge, traveling the Roseroad toward King's Landing.  They were casually strolling around the market square arm in arm.  They were laughing.  Daeron would lean toward Lyanna and whisper into her ear.  She would laugh and then turn to kiss him full on the lips.  They seemed so blissfully smitten with one another that they failed to notice their brothers watching them.

Rhaegar laid a restraining hand upon Brandon when they caught sight of Daeron and Lyanna.  The heir of Winterfell had already laid one hand upon the hilt of his sword.  “Need I remind you that it is death to raise a sword to a Targaryen Prince?  Even one who seems to be quite enamored by your sister?”

“No, my prince,” Brandon gritted through his teeth.  “Yet if he dishonored Lyanna...”

“Then my family will make a restitution,” the Prince of Dragonstone interrupted.  “He is far from the first prince or king to make a rash decision regarding a woman.  Or the first lord.”  At his last words, he gave Brandon a withering look. 

“I...”

“Have quite the reputation for romancing young women, or so my councilors have oft informed me.  Tell me, Lord Brandon, how many families has your father needed to pay to cover your indiscretions?”

The young man had the decency to look somewhat ashamed.  His reply was terse. “Not many.”

“Then you should rest assured that whatever it will take to appease your father regarding your sister, it will be done.  Just as your father has done for your own indiscretions.”

He gave the prince a curt nod of the head and stared toward where their brother and sister were strolling.  They watched, waiting until Daeron, Lyanna, or one of their guards took notice of Rhaegar, Brandon, and their guards.  Ser Jaime Lannister was the first to see Prince Rhaegar. Though at several paces away, his warning words of, "Your Grace", were heard clearly.

Ser Jaime fell to one knee before Rhaegar as the eldest Prince and his men approached.  The younger prince paled in shock before he and the rest of his men bent their knees before the Prince of Dragonstone.  Lyanna Stark did not gaze upon them with shock or fear.  Instead she glared at her brother before she curtsied politely before Prince Rhaegar.

"Dearest brother, you have worried many people by your disappearance, and yet we find you here without a care in the world."  Rhaegar motioned for the kneeling men to rise, which they did with some trepidation.  Daeron had the decency to appear contrite, though whether or not his contrition was genuine was anyone’s guess.

"I apologize for my impropriety, dear brother, and for any worry which I have caused our family."

Brandon stepped closer, his fists curled.  "Impropriety?  You took my sister away from her escort!  Without a word or trace, you stole my sister!"

“You cannot steal a person who wishes to be taken,” Lyanna hissed.

Daeron stepped to Lyanna’s side and took her hand in his own.  “I apologize for upsetting you, Lord Brandon.  I did not steal Lyanna away, I married her.”

Rhaegar placed a firm hand upon Brandon’s shoulder before the northman could respond.  “Lord Brandon rode with great haste to King’s Landing in order to seek out his sister.  He had heard a rumor that I was responsible for her disappearance.  Naturally, we were all troubled by such a pronouncement."  Lyanna finally had gained the decency to appear ashamed.  "It is gratifying to find both of you alive and in good spirits.  It is also good to hear that you have not mistreated Lady Lyanna and have instead married her.  When were you planning on informing our parents and her father of your actions?”

Daeron bowed his head.  “We were on our way back to King’s Landing at present.”

“After two months without a word to our dear mother about your whereabouts?  She will doubtless be sick with worry about you.”

Lyanna’s ever prideful face finally fell, and she too lowered her head in shame.  “I am truly sorry for all the trouble we have caused, my prince.  I came to love your brother at the tournament last year, and wished to marry him above any other man who lives.”

The lovers glanced at one another with genuine affection.  It was Daeron who continued to speak for the pair.  “And I loved her more than any woman who lives.  We knew that we could only be together if we were wed in secret.  I will pay her bride price to Lord Stark and make whatever restitution that Lord Baratheon deems appropriate for the breaking of their betrothal.  I will also apologize profusely to mother and father upon my return home.”

Rhaegar raised a silver brow at his brother’s words.  A payment from Prince Daeron’s stipend to the Lords of the North and Stormlands would go a long way to repairing whatever damage the young prince had caused.  Their mother would be relieved the moment they returned to the capital.  Their father...  King Aerys would complain about Lyanna, of that Rhaegar had no doubts.  The King had complained that Elia was not as attractive as Princess Shaena had been upon more than one occasion.  He had complained that Princess Rhaenys “smelled Dornish”, no doubt he would say the same of Prince Aemon.  Their father had often complained that there were no daughters for his sons to wed.  There were bastard sisters and likely bastard brothers, though only two of the King’s many mistresses had come forward saying that they had birthed a child of the King.  Saera and Gael Rivers were ten and five respectively.  The girls lived within the Red Keep, as their mothers were both dead.  However, they were kept in private rooms apart from Queen Rhaella’s children.  They were lovely young girls, Saera had light brown hair and Gael had silver-blonde hair, they both possessed large violet eyes.

“I suppose that would be an acceptable solution.  You will join with us for the journey back to King’s Landing.”  The younger prince grudgingly agreed, for truly he had no choice in the matter of returning to King’s Landing with his brother.

Rhaegar then turned to Lady Lyanna with a gentle smile.  “Welcome to the family, Princess Lyanna.”

She favored him with a brilliant smile.  “Thank you, Prince Rhaegar.  It is an honor to be a part of your House.”

He acknowledged her sentiment with a polite bow of his head.  He then proceeded to clap Brandon upon the shoulder.  “It appears that we are brothers by marriage now.  You should count House Stark to be fortunate as so few Houses have married into my own.”

Brandon’s incessant glare toward his sister faded into a bitter smirk.  “That is because House Targaryen marries to itself so often.  Does our new status as good-brothers mean that I will not be killed for drawing my sword at you?”

The humor in Brandon’s voice did not amuse Rhaegar, or any of their companions.  “I would not test your luck.”

A short time later, they made their way to the castle.  They imposed themselves upon the hospitality of Lord Caswell for their mid-day meal.  The Lord of Bitterbridge feasted them well, and ensured that their horses were fed, watered, and groomed.  They remained at the castle for the night, as their hosts insisted upon sharing their hospitality with the two eldest Targaryen Princes and two of Lord Rickard Stark’s children, not to mention Lord Tywin Lannister’s eldest son.  They left early the following morning for King’s Landing.

* * *

Brandon was succeeding at getting under Lyanna’s skin.  She was trying her hardest to be polite toward him while they travelled, but his continuous self-righteous attitude was grating.  Who was he to be angry with her?

You delayed my wedding, he had said.  To which she had laughed at him.  Since when did his impending marriage matter?  He had bedded Barbrey Ryswell, now Dustin, after Brandon and Catelyn Tully had been betrothed.  He was known to bed a different girl at every tourney he attended.  It made one wonder how many bastards he might have fathered throughout Westeros.

Who was he to lecture her about propriety?  Or about what was good for their family?  She had wed Stark to Targaryen, a better match could not have been asked for, unless it had been Rhaegar whom she married.  Brandon could match Robert Baratheon for how many women they had taken into their beds.  Was it any wonder that she had never wanted to wed Lord Baratheon?  She did not believe either of them were likely to change their behaviors.  Perhaps Lady Catelyn could tame her wandering brother, but Lyanna had her doubts.

She wished for a sword to fight with, but she satisfied herself with riding hard at varying times.  She would be chased after by Daeron, or one of their many guards, but she found the pursuit to be enjoyable.  She believed that there were few better things in life than riding.  However, riding to be introduced to King Aerys and Queen Rhaella, was something that churned her stomach.

What would they think of her marriage to Prince Daeron?  What would her father and brothers think of the match?

She had no idea what sort of a life she would have within the walls of the Red Keep.


	5. Welcoming

Queen Rhaella Targaryen stood at foot of the Iron Throne.  Her husband, brother, and king was seated upon the iron monstrosity that their ancestor had forged nearly three hundred years past.  Four of their Kingsguard were standing a level below her, just off of the throne’s dais.  Ser Barristan Selmy stood the furthest to her right, then Ser Gerold Hightower, Ser Jonothor Darry, and Ser Jaime Lannister to the furthest left.

The youngest member of the Kingsguard had been reassigned from protecting Prince Daeron to protecting the King upon their return to King’s Landing.  It was a punishment, to be sure.  The punishment was more for Prince Daeron than for anyone else.  All of the prince’s guards who had accompanied him on his escapades had been reassigned to protect other members of the household.  Prince Daeron’s guard was now comprised of much older and wiser men, instead of the younger guards who had been his companions.  The eldest of his old guard was Ser Crispian Celtigar, aged thirty-four.  The youngest had been Ser Jaime, who was only a few months older than Daeron.  Daeron’s youngest guard was now thirty years of age.

She was poised as she stood at the base of the throne.  She wore a gown of black silk, slashed at the bodice and skirt with red silk and cloth of gold.  The gown glittered with rubies and diamonds which started heavily at the neckline and faded by the hem of the skirt.  Her crown was the heavier of the two she owned, matching the one her husband wore that day.  It was a gold band which formed a dragon at the head of its bearer with wings spread behind its head.

Her neck ached from the weight of the crown, but she kept her head steady.  Her expression was carefully blank as her eyes studied the faces of the people in the room.  There were three hundred courtiers who had permitted to witness the day’s ceremony.  They were men and women of noble birth who were present in the Red Keep.  They had been granted the honor of witnessing the announcement of Prince Daeron’s marriage to Lyanna Stark.  Hopefully the ceremony would quell the many rumors which had been circulating throughout the city and country for the past two months.

Near the front of the crowd stood the Small Council.  They were all aware of her son’s marriage.  The rows of nobles behind the men were filled with lords, ladies, and knights of valor.  None of them knew for a certainty why they had been gathered, though rumors had surely spread to them of Daeron’s return with Rhaegar and the Starks.  They were all pleased, she did not doubt, with the idea that they were granted the privilege of attending court that day.

She noticed Saera and Gael, her husband’s bastards, in the gallery with their nurse.  They should not have been at court, but no doubt their father had permitted their presence.  They were both polite, gentle children.  Gael was the more spirited of the two, while Saera was the more reserved.  Rhaella was in charge of their household, though she knew that most women would not abide the presence of their husband’s bastards.  Rhaella was, however, not most women.  She was the Queen, she was a mother, and she was the aunt of her husband’s bastards.

If her life entailed abiding bastards so that her husband would not touch her, she would gladly accept a hundred more, so long as none were bastard sons.  She did not think that the King would suffer a bastard son to live, not after the Blackfyre Rebellions, the risk was far too great.  Daughters did not inherit.  Daughters could be married off to whomever their father wished.  Daughters did not often get the idea in their heads that they should become ruler after their father, not after the Dance of the Dragons anyway.

Rhaella’s eyes left the children and found her.  She was lingering close to the front of the crowd, though behind enough rows of people that her presence could be overlooked.  She was gazing up at the king, watching him while carefully avoiding the looks of those around her.  Everyone knew that Alyssa Elesham was the newest mistress of King Aerys.  She had taken to dressing in dark reds, with bust-lines cut so low that she left little to the imagination.  He had taken to giving her jewels and gowns of the finest quality.  He had done the same with all of his other mistresses, for as long as they held his interest.

Rhaella had always hoped that one of the king’s mistresses would keep his attentions permanently away from her.  None of them had succeeded, she often lamented.  The longest lasting of the mistresses had been Shiera Farring, Saera’s mother.  The young woman had started as one of Rhaella’s ladies in waiting before supplanting Brella Rosby as the King’s mistress.  She had become Aerys’ mistress during Rhaella’s pregnancy with Princess Shaena and had lasted until she fell ill and died mere months after Saera’s birth.  She had been the only one of Aerys’ many mistresses whom Rhaella had truly liked.

Shiera had never tried to supplant the Queen’s position.  She had become the King’s mistress, the girl had confessed, to better her own position and to ease Rhaella’s own burdens.  Shiera had known that the King and Queen did not wish to be married to one another, and had shown genuine affection toward Rhaella and the young princes and princess.  It was a pity that she had died.

Young, lovely Alyssa Elesham did not possess the same sensibilities that her predecessor had owned.  She was only seventeen, so her persistently childish insolence was not unexpected.  Rhaella truly did not understand the girl.  She dressed no better than a well paid harlot.  She behaved no better than a spoiled child.  Rhaella did not doubt that a girl of her youth would have certain assets that the king found enjoyable, but he would tire of her sooner than he had of the last girl.

Rhaella’s gaze shifted to the doors at the end of the hall which were being opened.  A guard at the end announced the arrival of the princes, her sons.  She watched as they entered the room, allowing a smile to light across her face as she beheld her children and the remaining three Kingsguard enter the room.

Prince Lewyn Martell walked in front of her sons while Sers Oswell Whent and Arthur Dayne walked behind her sons.  They walked down the central aisle of the vast room, past the three hundred courtiers who had been permitted to witness the day’s ceremony

Her sons were all dressed in their formal clothes of black, trimmed with red and emblazoned with the three-headed dragon of their House.  Rhaegar led them into the room.  His gait was steady and sure.  He wore his hair loose, spilling across the blood red cape which hung behind his back.  He wore a gold coronet upon his head, shining with rubies and diamonds, as a symbol of his position as Prince of Dragonstone.

Daeron followed closely behind his brother.  His eyes were somewhat downcast, his face somber.  She knew that he was still subdued from the very long lecture he had received two days prior, when he was returned to King’s Landing by his elder brother.  She loved her second son dearly, his laughter was always quick and his temperament was gentle, but he was also prone to making heedless decisions.  She knew that he was still quite young.  Youth lent itself to folly, but he was also a prince, third in line to the throne.  He was old enough to understand that decisions had consequences.

Marriage always had consequences.  He was still too young to understand everything that marriage would entail.  Lyanna Stark was too young to understand everything that marrying a Targaryen Prince would require of her.  She was, quite thankfully, a girl of high birth.  His elopement with the young lady would be a relatively easy ordeal to smooth over in time in the eyes of the public.  In private, there would be many issues to work through.  Then again, when were there not private matters to work through?  Her eyes drifted for a moment from her sons to her bastard nieces and her husband’s mistress.

Daeron’s garb matched that of his elder brother, but his coronet was made of silver set with rubies and garnets.  He wore a black cape which was lined with red silk and his platinum hair was tied into a queue.

Aegon, Jaehaerys, and Viserys trailed behind their brothers.  They wore the same attire as their brothers but with no capes.  They all wore simple bronze circlets upon their heads.  She was proud that her three youngest boys, aged ten, eight, and six, were all walking in a straight line one after the other.  None of them tried to run to her or to the dragon skulls which lined the room.  They were all quite fond of acting as though the skulls of their ancestral dragons were toys upon which they could play.  Then again, she had done much the same as a child.  She had always wanted to ride a dragon.

When they reached the front of the room, they knelt before the king.  When they stood, they walked onto the dais.  Rhaegar took his place opposite her beneath the Iron Throne.  Daeron stood beside him.  Her younger three sons stood beside her in a row, and she breathed deep in the hope that they would stand still throughout the ceremony.  If the gods were good, the king would say nothing foolish when all of his children were present.

The guard then announced the entrance of Brandon Stark and his sister Lyanna.  They were trailed by Ethan Glover and Elbert Arryn, who had originally accompanied Lord Brandon to King’s Landing.  His other companions, Kyle Royce and Jeffory Mallister, were in the parties which had split off from Rhaegar’s search party and would not be back in the capital for some days yet.

The Glover and Arryn boys found spaces to stand near the front of the crowd.  They knelt before the king before they stood again.  The Heir of Winterfell went to one knee before the throne.  Lady Lyanna gracefully went to one knee beside her brother.

She was lovely, this girl her son had wed.  The gown she wore was cloth of silver with blue accents.  The hem, sleeves, and neckline were trimmed with white fur.  There were pearls on the bodice of her dress, and she wore a necklace of pearls.  It was, the queen had been informed, the dress Lyanna was to wear for her brother’s wedding to Catelyn Tully.  Daeron had asked Rhaella for help with his wife’s wardrobe, her dress had torn during their travels.  The Queen had sent her personal seamstresses to assist with repairing the dress for the ceremony.

“Rise,” the command came from the king on his throne above.

Brandon stood readily and looked to his sister, as though he were going to help her stand, and then he stopped suddenly when she looked up at him.  The girl seemed to realize that she was being tested, even if her brother was simply being courteous.  Lyanna must have realized that being welcomed into the royal family in open court was a trial of her strength of character.  She had been in the Red Keep for two days and had seen none of the royal family, save Daeron, until this moment.  The decision to not meet the young woman before the day was unkind, but necessary.  She would need to learn her position and she would need to learn it quickly.

Lyanna stood slowly, careful to maintain her poise.  She smoothed her dress as she stood, and Rhaella could see the slight tremors which ran through the girl’s hands.  She clasped her hands together in front of her body, clutching them so tightly together that her knuckles were turning white.  She looked up, and her eyes found Daeron.

In spite of all the anxiety which was obviously flowing through Lyanna, the girl’s face lit up as her eyes fell upon Daeron.  There was no falseness to the way the girl’s entire body and face appeared to soften as she looked at him.  It had been a long time since Rhaella had seen such naked love written upon a person’s face.  If life was kind, Daeron and Lyanna would remain in love for a long time.

“Lyanna Stark,” the King said.  The girl’s eyes snapped away from her husband toward her good-father and king.  Her expression instantly stiffened.  “It is the claim of my son, Prince Daeron, that you have won his heart.  Looking upon you, I wonder what he sees.”

Rhaella held her breath, and thanked the gods that there were no swords in the room not held by their Kingsguard or her sons.  She noticed the way that Brandon Stark’s fists clenched and loosened by his sides.  Lyanna, the poor girl, appeared to be near tears, but she did not look away from the king and she did not cry.

“You are a fair sight prettier than my eldest son’s wife, at least that much can be said of you.”

This time, it was Rhaegar’s hands which curled into tight fists.  He would not lash out against his father, no matter how hurtful the words were which sprang forth from Aerys’ mouth.

“Before you were returned to King’s Landing, you were betrothed to my cousin’s son, Lord Robert Baratheon.  I wonder how it is that a girl betrothed, has found herself married to my son?”

His words were bitter and harsh, eliciting murmurs throughout the crowd.  Rhaella hoped that the girl would not break, not now.

She took a deep breath, steading herself.  Her eyes shifted to Daeron for a brief moment before she gazed hard upon the King.  “Your grace,” her voice rang clear and steady.  “I met your son, the Prince Daeron, at Harrenhal this year past.  In all the world I have met no finer man.  He is kind, brave, and his nobility holds no equal, except for yourself, your grace.  I am certain that you have heard much of Lord Baratheon.  I know of no tale which could equate the men, one to the other.  Nor do I think that it would be fitting to describe a stag as an equal to a dragon.  For a dragon has no equal.”

“That I could ever hope to be loved of your son, was merely a dream, yet it was a dream which he shared.  I fear, your grace, that youthful intemperance led us to follow our hearts rather than more mature sensibilities that guide the decisions of our elders, and most especially our fathers.  It was, I trust you have been informed, a decision on the part of myself and your son, the Prince Daeron, that we would be wed, one to the other.  I pray that your grace will forgive the rash decisions which the prince and I have made.”

Lyanna’s eyes fell respectfully to the ground as she awaited the king’s response.  The girl was well spoken, that was a saving grace at least.  Rhaella looked up at her husband, the king, hoping to see something of what he thought as he looked down upon the girl.  The king smirked.  She had succeeded in amusing him.

“A dragon does have no equals, there is truth in what you have said.  Tell me girl, do you think yourself to be an equal to the dragons?”

‘Careful child’, Rhaella pleaded silently, willing for the girl to pass whatever test the king was inflicting upon her.

She looked up at him, a secretive smile upon her lips.  “I believe that a dragon has no equal.  I also believe that ice and fire are as different from one another as day and night.  Just as day must follow night, so fire and ice must ever follow one another.  ‘Winter is Coming,’ so say the words of my father’s House.  House Stark has guarded the North since the Dawn Age, in a line unbroken throughout the millennia.  We were the Kings of Winter, until my ancestor knelt before your own.  Ice must yield to fire, your grace.  Though oft in winter, even fire yields to snow.  So, your grace, I see that life is a cycle of ice and fire, of day and night.  I will never be a dragon.  I will ever be ice, drawn to flame even as it burns me.”

King Aerys laughed, though the room was painfully silent.  Even Viserys and Jaehaerys had ceased looking at the skull of Balerion the Black Dread as though they wanted to play upon it.

“A snowflake that wishes to be devoured by the inferno?  A hundred young women would have fought long and hard for the position which you have... acquired.”  He gazed upon her in silence again, waiting for a rebuttal.

“To what end, your grace?  I am but the wife of a second son.  A second son of the most noble House of Westeros, to be certain, but with it there are no titles or lands.  His grace the Prince of Dragonstone is a man wed, with a son who will continue his line, may he have many more.  I am but a girl in love, your grace.”

They gazed upon one another in silence, the King and the Stark girl.  The room observed them in silence, waiting with bated breath to know what the king would say in response to her.

“Then it is our most exalted decision to make a change of that,” he announced.  “Lyanna of House Stark, this day you are named Princess Lyanna of House Targaryen.  Step forward, and you Prince Daeron, stand before me beside your bride.”

Daeron and Lyanna met at the dais of the throne, and he clasped her hands as she stepped up to the base of the throne.  They faced the king together.

“Daeron, my son, it is my decision that lands and titles should be bestowed upon you as my second born.  Lands which will be the inheritance of you and your sons after you.  You will ever be a vassal of myself and of your brother after me.  The lands which will be given to you be from the southern shore of the God’s Eye Lake, bordered by the Blackwater Rush, the Kingsroad, and King’s Landing itself.  You will be from this day forward known as the Prince of Blackwater.”

Daeron and Lyanna fell to their knees before the throne, offering their thanks to the king.  It had been Rhaella’s idea to grant Daeron land, Aerys had agreed to the idea.  House Targaryen had been weakened by the destruction of most of their family when Summerhall had burned.  Daeron’s elopement with Lyanna had been imprudent, but the alliance was priceless.  If they produced heirs, then there was hope that the position of their House would remain firm.

Summerhall had proved how easily their line could end.  Duskendale had enforced the idea that their reign was not as secure as could be hoped.  Five sons, each of whom could wed into powerful Houses in order to keep the family secure.  There were no female heirs to House Baratheon, Arryn, or Tyrell.  Targaryen was now wedded to the only female heirs of Houses Martell and Stark.  Of the remaining Great Houses, Catelyn Tully was to wed Brandon Stark very soon.  Of the remaining girl, Lysa Tully, there were few positive reports.  House Greyjoy was too low for consideration.  Then there was House Lannister.

When Rhaella had been a young girl, Joanna Lannister had come to court to serve as one of her companions.  They were the same age, and loved to spend time with one another.  Joanna had been the spirited, bossy, adventurous one of the pair.  They spent their childhoods in the Red Keep, until Joanna returned to Casterly Rock when she was ten.  She returned shortly after Rhaegar’s birth and served as lady in waiting along with the older Meria Martell, Princess of Dorne.  It had broken Rhaella’s heart to send Joanna away, but neither woman had trusted Aerys when it came to Joanna.  Aerys had wanted Joanna for many long years, but the young woman had never returned his attentions. With great affection, the two women had parted. The love which Rhaella and Joanna shared had kept relations between Lannister and Targaryen strong.  Then Joanna had died, nearly ten years past.

Lord Tywin Lannister had grown up in the Red Keep as well.  As boys, Tywin and Aerys had been good friends.  Aerys had loved the man enough to name him as Hand of the King.  Yet the young Lord of Casterly Rock often seemed too ambitious.  Over the years, the friendship between the two men had eroded away until it had eventually crumbled into dust.  Tywin had wished for his daughter Cersei to wed Rhaegar, or failing that to wed Daeron.  When Lord Tywing had proposed the match, Aerys had denied the match without a second thought.  Princess Shaena had only died a year before, how could they consider a marriage for Rhaegar when their loss was still so raw?  Over a year past, they had taken Ser Jaime Lannister as a Kingsguard so that Lord Lannister would not think to garner notions of equality with House Targaryen.  The boy was, in a sense, a hostage to keep Lord Tywin in line.

Perhaps it was unfair that young Cersei Lannister had been denied even Prince Daeron.  As cruel as it might seem from the perspective of the little lioness.  As perturbing as it might seem to the great Lord Tywin Lannister.  Rhaella would never, so long as it was within her power, allow Cersei Lannister to wed one of the princes.  For Joanna’s sake she would keep the girl out of King’s Landing for as long as she could possibly manage.  The last time Rhaella had seen Cersei, she was still quite young.  Young Cersei resembled her father in her looks and her mother in her temperament.  She would likely grow up to be a stunningly beautiful woman.  The last thing that Rhaella wanted in King’s Landing was another version of Joanna Lannister.  She had not trusted Aerys with Joanna, there was no way that she could trust Aerys with Joanna’s daughter.

Rhaella looked to her young son and his bride as they knelt before the throne.  They were so young, too young to understand the weight of everything that today would bring.  Even so, Rhaella had been younger when she had been wed.  She had been old enough to know that she did not want what her parents had forced upon her.  She had not been old enough to truly understand what it would be like to be Queen.  She hoped that her daughters by marriage were strong enough to endure the challenges of their positions.  Elia was proving to a wonderful Princess of Dragonstone.  From today’s events, Rhaella had hopes that Lyanna would prove to be just as strong a Princess of Blackwater.

King Aerys arose, and the assembly knelt before him.  He descended from the throne and stood before his second son and new good-daughter.  He turned to Rhaella and she turned to the side.  Behind her, upon a pedestal was a circlet of silver, matching Prince Daeron’s and a signet ring of House Targaryen.  The Queen picked up the circlet and passed it to her King.  He proclaimed Lyanna’s position as Princess of Blackwater as he laid the crown upon her head.  The Queen then passed the signet ring to the King, and he bade the Prince and Princess to stand.  He then placed the signet ring upon her right middle finger as a symbol of her union to House Targaryen.

With a kiss upon each cheek, the King welcomed Lyanna into the family.  The royal family and the Kingsguard bowed to the King as he departed from the room, followed by Sers Barristan Selmy and Gerold Hightower.  With the departure of Aerys from the room, everyone stood and the mutterings of the crowd created a din within the room.  Most of the people departed in droves, no doubt to spread word of the day’s events to the populace of King’s Landing and beyond.  The members of the Small Council bowed politely to the royal family before they departed.

“Welcome to the family, Princess Lyanna,” Rhaella said with a smile when most of the crowds had departed.

She managed to smile back, though the girl was clearly overwhelmed.  “Thank you, your grace.”

“Meet your husband’s brothers, Aegon, Jaehaerys, and Viserys.”  Each of the boys stepped forward when they were introduced.  The boys each kissed her hand.  From the crowds, their nursemaids appeared.

“Iris, Taella, and Sirene, are the boy’s nursemaids,” she informed Lyanna.  “Sirene used to be Prince Daeron’s nursemaid.”  She dismissed the younger three boys and their nurses, instructing Sers Jonothor Darry and Jaime Lannister to accompany them with a wave of her hand.  Other guards for the boys emerged from the sides of the room to escort them back to their chambers and play rooms.  Rhaella stepped off of the dais and was followed by her remaining sons and the newly proclaimed princess.

“Lyanna, you will be spending much time with me over the next few months learning the names of all the servants within the household and their functions.  I will also help you with establishing your own household.  Any outstanding issues with your father or with Lord Baratheon will be handled by myself.  At some point over the next few years, you will be shown the lands which are the inheritance of your children.  The lands are relatively unsettled, though they are fertile.  Once a proper estate is built for Prince Daeron and yourself, arrangements for settling the land can be made.”

Lyanna looked to her brother, who had joined their small group.  “Your grace, if I am to remain here for the next several months, will I not be permitted to attend my brother’s wedding?”

Rhaella pressed her lips into a thin line.  “It is the belief of myself and of my husband the king, that your presence is more important here, within the Red Keep.”

Her face fell.  “Of course, your grace.”

Brandon grabbed his sister’s hand and gave it a firm squeeze.  “I am certain that you are tired of weddings by now, dear sister.”

She laughed at that.  “I am glad that we will have some time here before you leave.  I do not believe that I have thanked you for all the effort which you expended in order to find me.  I am grateful Brandon, even though I have been dreadful toward you at times.”

His lips quirked into an easy smile.  “You have always been dreadful, little sister, but I could not have asked the gods for a better sister than you.  If you will pardon me, I will leave you to your husband’s family.”

“Of course.”  They hugged briefly and then Brandon bowed to the remaining royals before he departed from the hall with his companions.

Rhaegar laid a hand upon Daeron’s shoulder.  “Come brother, why don’t we let your wife become more acquainted with our mother.”

Daeron began to protest, but Rhaella cut him off with a slow shake of her head.  The queen needed time to speak with the young princess.  He sighed in protest.

“I leave you to my mother, my love.”  He kissed her gently upon the lips.  “We will dine together this evening.”

She beamed at him.  “I shall await the hour with impatience.”

He kissed his mother on both of her cheeks and was followed by Rhaegar who did the same to both Queen Rhaella and Princess Lyanna.  As Rhaegar kissed Lyanna, he spoke quietly to her.  “You aren’t ice, young wolf, you are fire.”

Prince Rhaegar smirked at her and she laughed a little.  The princes left the room, followed by Sers Oswell Whent and Arthur Dayne along with their personal guards who were standing to the side of the room.  At last, Princess Lyanna and Queen Rhaella were relatively alone in the vast throne room.  Prince Lewyn Martell was still standing near them, at a respectful distance.  There were other stragglers around the perimeter of the room, speaking softly to one another.

Rhaella grasped Lyanna’s hands gently, yet firmly.  “I apologize for my husband’s words.  He is not known for his kindness.  I believe that you have won his respect.  You are quite a brave young woman, and lovely.  I have never seen my son happier than when he looks upon your face.”

“He is a wonderful young man, your grace.  I do not think that it is possible not to love him.”

The smile which Rhaella returned was rather wan.  “I hope that the love which both of you have toward one another will endure.  A marriage without love is an unhappy affair for all involved.”

They walked forward in silence for a few moments.  “I will show you to rooms which have been established for you.  They are relatively unfurnished at the moment.  You will receive a stipend from Prince Daeron’s allotment.  With it you will be in charge of running your household.  You will be responsible for all members of your serving staff.  When you are more settled, it would be prudent for you to send letters to your father and his lords requesting female companions from the North.  They will be your ladies in waiting, responsible for your companionship and for helping you in your daily tasks.  It is a great honor to serve a member of the royal family, and women who are at court often find good husbands.  Perhaps the sister of your brother’s betrothed would like a position within your household.”

Lyanna nodded.  “I will be certain to ask, your grace.”  She stopped and looked at the Queen.  “Your grace, may I admit that I am terrified.”

Rhaella embraced the girl.  At first she was stiff, but then she relaxed into the Queen’s arms.  “I know that you are.  No one expects that this will be easy for you, but you will learn your role in time.  That is what I am here to teach you.  In a few months, Princess Elia will arrive from Dragonstone with the children, and she will also help you settle into the new life which you will have here at court.”

“Thank you, your grace.”

The Queen pulled back, and laid a gentle hand upon Lyanna’s cheek.  “It is I who thank you, I have never seen my son so happy as when he looks upon you.  Now come, we have much which needs to be done today.”


	6. Thoughts of the Future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is set a few months after the previous chapter.

The sun was warm enough that for a moment or so, with her eyes closed, Princess Elia Martell could believe that she was home. The air was not dry enough and the smell was wrong, but she could still dream of Sunspear.  The children laughing in the garden broke the brief spell.  She opened her eyes to see her daughter Rhaenys chasing after Gael, Saera, Aegon, Jahaerys, and Viserys.  Princess Lyanna was chasing them as well, though she was intentionally slow so that the children had a fair chance.

They were in one of the secluded gardens of the Red Keep which overlooked the sea.  A dozen handmaidens were all carefully watching the children while over a dozen more guards stood further away. The guards were adept at standing quietly at a distance so as not to disturb the royal children while ensuring their safety.

Princess Lyanna had been drinking tea with Elia, until Lyanna decided to join the children at play while Elia fed Aemon.  Her son was resting in his bassinet beside her now.  He was thankfully an easy child, not terribly fussy or fretful.  Elia was now watching the children and Lyanna at play, and feigning that she was reading.

"She's half a child," Elia murmured quietly to herself as she looked at Lyanna.

"She will grow up fast enough," a voice replied behind her.  Elia jumped and turned to see her husband smiling at her.  "I am sorry for startling you."

She raised a brow in disbelief. "Of course you are," she replied kindly, her voice edged in sarcasm.  "Did the meeting go well?"

He seated himself beside her with a sigh.  "As well as all small council meetings go.  Daeron is thrilled that he has been included in the meetings."

"He is an adult now, and third in line to the throne, it is no less than should be expected of him."

Elia glanced toward the children and saw Lyanna run into Daeron's arms.  As she ran, her gown clung to the slight swell of her belly.  Rhaegar had spoken truly when he said that she would grow up soon, having a child of one’s own is enough to force most to mature.

"He will do well in the council.  It is my hope that when we are older, after my father is departed, that he will serve as my Hand."

She bowed her head in agreement.   The brothers did well with one another and would be assets to one another as they grew older.  Provided that Daeron outgrew his impulsiveness. "Do the other councilors approve of his presence?"

Rhaegar laughed.  "Some do, some do not.  Most fear my father too much to speak a conflicting opinion."

She smiled lightly, the temper of King Aerys was always a concern.  "Did Daeron do well?"

"He did. We discussed hiring an architect for the design of Daeron's future palace, the rebuilding of Summerhall, and ways of improving King's Landing."

“Is there are reason why Daeron was granted land?"

"To strengthen our family's position.  He was always going to be granted land.  Lord Tully has agreed that the land being used by the crown is favorable, especially now that his younger daughter is guest of Daeron and Lyanna's household.  How is young Lysa faring?”

Elia sipped her tea and shook her head.  Young Lysa Tully, though highborn, was not made for the royal court.  The girl was shy, skittish, and prone to crying at strange moments.  Elia set down her cup with a sigh.  “The girl is young.  Lyanna seems willing to bear her presence.  I do believe that Lyanna is also trying to make a good impression upon everyone in order to make up for her sudden addition to the family.”

Rhaegar smirked at her in agreement.  “I wonder if Lord Hoster fosters hopes that his children may yet marry into my family.  His son and daughter are both young and unwed.”

"Edmure Tully is still a child."

"And we have a daughter..."

A daughter who was still delighting in chasing after Gael and Viserys.  Somehow the two year old was winning their game.  "I don't want our children wed one to the other," Elia muttered with an edge in her voice.  She shocked herself by her tone and words.

"They won't."

She looked to him, surprised.  "Truly?"

"Many say that intermarriage will be the fall of my family, and it nearly was.  The Faith is adamantly opposed to brothers marrying sisters.  And my father seems to believe that the gods killed Shaena as a punishment for pledging her to me.  A lack of other sisters from my mother only confirms that notion for him."

She smiled in relief.  "A wise decision."

He took her hand in his and pressed it to his lips.  "Even if it were not his decision, for you, my lady, I would bid them marry others."

She felt a sudden surge of relief, but even that was tempered by doubt.  The minds and hearts of kings are often not stable things.  In ten years or so, when her children were old enough to be betrothed, a promise now might easily be forgotten. Had Princess Meria Martell, Elia's mother, understood what challenges being a royal consort would mean?  Had she considered the impact upon her grandchildren?  The practices of the Targaryens were abhorrent, but so many forgot the darkness of House Targaryen when they dreamt of a crown upon their child’s head.

"How are all of our new arrivals faring," she asked, changing the subject.

"Lord Baratheon and Eddard Stark are both well. Young Eddard is anxious for the arrival of his father and the Daynes."

"Ser Arthur told me that his father and family are taking a slower journey intentionally."

"They have been ever mindful of their daughter's honor.  You must be anxious to receive Lady Ashara back into your care."

She was anxious to see Ashara again.  Elia’s life had been dull and lonely without Ashara.  "If they permit it.  I have missed her terribly."

"From what I have heard, Lords Stark and Dayne have come to an agreement and will see their son and daughter wed, removing the hint of disgrace from both of them."

"That does not mean that they will remain here."

"Why would their parents forbid them a place at court we offer one? His sister is here and Ashara is your friend."

"I see your point."  She paused, looking again at the children.  Lyanna and Daeron were sitting on a bench nearby, talking to Jahaerys.  Aegon was playing catch with Saera and Viserys.  Rhaenys was still chasing Gael. Oh to have the energy of a child.  "I pity Lord Rickard."

"Oh?"

"To have so many troubles with one's children, all at the same time..."

"Every family has its troubles.  Lord Rickard's wife died when his children were still quite young, a mother's influence is important. The indiscretions of his children will be forgotten in time."

She looked up her husband skeptically. "Marriages are not forgotten, nor are children."

"Minor scandals, all of which have been easily handled."

"Brandon Stark accused you of taking his sister, not Daeron.  An issue which you caused when you favored her at that tournament.  If you had not met him when he arrived, if your mother had not agreed to wave away the issue..."

"Then the foolishness of myself, my brother, and the Starks might have ended quite poorly.  Hopefully my brothers and our children make wiser choices."

"I pray they will."

"Perhaps my brothers being fostered elsewhere will encourage them to make wiser decisions.  My younger brothers will not remain here much longer."

She turned to him, surprised.  She had not known that the young princes were to be fostered elsewhere.

"It is not safe for our entire family to be in one place.  Both of my parents fear that harm might befall our entire family if we all remain in one place for too long.  I agree with them."

"Where will they go?"

"They will be fostered with other noble houses.  Mother and father are considering sending Aegon to your family and Jahaerys to foster with House Stark.  Viserys will likely go to live with the Baratheons in a few years."

"A plan which retains the royal children in families which are already bound to the crown by blood and marriage."

"And prevents the family from being harmed all at the same time."

"The Queen will hate it."

"Yes and no, she has spoken of it before, but she does not wish to be parted from any of us."

Elia thought upon her own children. Some day she might be parted from them.  She could not imagine that pain. It was an ache which her own mother and the Queen could both understand. She admired Queen Rhaella, and Princess Meria Martell.  They had both lost children, and yet they were both so incredibly strong.  Elia could only hope that one day she might be as strong as they.

A companionable silence fell, though it was short lived as Aemon began to cry and Rhaenys ran to her father. Elia picked up her son while Rhaegar picked up their daughter and began to speak with her.  Aemon was comforted by being held, and by the gentle song which Elia sang to him.

It was easy to forget when singing to her children or watching them at play that some day her children would grow up.  Some day they would wed and have children of their own to care for.  Some day they would leave.  Some day her son would be King.  But for now, she could sing to them.  For now she could watch them play in the warmth of the gardens.  For now they could all be together, happy, and forget that they were the future of the kingdom.


	7. Fragile Hearts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it took 10 months but I finally have the update! I hope that I edited everything... Thank you to everyone who has read and commented :)
> 
> Just a couple notes, I have chosen to age Domeric Bolton to being a couple years younger than Lyanna since we have no idea his actual canon age (seriously his age is one of those weird things that makes no sense in canon). Allyria Dayne I have gone with a fan theory on for this story.
> 
> A word of caution that there is some implied abuse (and briefly witnessed abuse) in the chapter.

"Father!" Lyanna's shout broke through Rickard Stark's thoughts clearly and joyfully. He turned at the sound of his daughter’s voice. She was walking two steps slower than a run toward him. She had always been running, his little girl. He wondered if Lyanna would have been a better behaved young woman if Lyarra had lived longer. He merely shook his head and smiled at her when she slowed and stood before him. She was radiant, with a smile that could light the darkest day and a glow which spoke to her visible pregnancy. She was adorned as a Targaryen Princess in black and red, with a thin circlet upon her brow.

Lord Rickard Stark held his arms out to her and embraced her when she drew near. "I've missed you so terribly, father. Are you angry with me?" She pulled away and gazed up at him, repentant in tone and expression.

"I was concerned for your safety, my winter rose, but I am glad that you seem well and happy." He had learned long ago that he could not remain angry with Lyanna for very long. Perhaps his lenience toward her was a failing. Brandon always said that Lyanna was spoiled, but Rickard Stark could never bring himself to discipline his little girl.

"Oh I am father!  I would have greeted you upon your arrival, but I was with their graces Queen Rhaella and Princess Elia, and the children."

"So your brother and husband informed me."

"Isn't Daeron wonderful?"

He smiled at her. She had never been so happy, so full of joy. Yet he knew that he could not be so permissive of her actions, so his response was measured. "He seems to be a good young man. Though I wish that you had spoken to me of your interest in the prince instead of creating a scandal."

Her face fell, repentant again. "Yes father. Their graces, the King and Queen, as well as Princess Elia and Prince Rhaegar have often told myself and Daeron much the same. Brandon ranted at me about my behavior from the time they found us until we arrived here!"

"That was his duty as my heir and your elder brother. He was concerned for your wellbeing. Are you happy here?"

He sensed her apprehension before she answered. She chose her words carefully. "I am happy with Daeron. I enjoy the company of his brothers and mother. Princess Elia and her children are wonderful. Overall I do enjoy being here, though I still have much to learn."

He noticed that she spoke no words about the King, but that did not surprise Rickard. He had seldom heard good reports about King Aerys. "I am glad that you are enjoying your new life here."

She took his arm and they began to walk toward Rickard’s apartment in the Red Keep. “Thank you father. Every day I learn something new. The south is so different from the north and King's Landing is a world unto itself."

"I have heard that said many times before. Has the sister of your brother's wife adjusted well to your household?"

She frowned and sighed heavily. "I have tried to help her adjust to King's Landing, but Lysa Tully is not like other girls."

He laughed. "Neither are you sweetling."

She frowned, shaking her head. "Not like me. I may hold the traditions of the northernmost women more dearly than you wish, but she were that the case she and I would be fast friends.” She mulled over the words in her mind before she spoke again. “She's very quiet and cries at strange times. She has improved as the days have passed, but she is still not quite at home here."

"Have you asked her what would make her feel more at home?"

She paused for a moment. "No father, I had not considered that."

"Then perhaps you should do that today."

"I will," she agreed, smiling again.

He hesitated a few moments before posing a question of his daughter. "I have a request to make of you."

"Oh?"

"I have been accompanied by Lord Willam Dustin and his wife, and would like to ask your favor in allowing them to join your household."

She frowned, pulling away. "You just want to keep Brandon away from Barbrey."

"Lya," he raised his voice in warning.

She clenched her jaw before acquiescing. "I will gladly accept them into my household, pending my lord husband’s approval. I would welcome any other ladies you desire to send from northern houses into my household as companions. I am certain that you already have some in mind."

"I do have some in mind, and a young man of northern birth as well."

"Young man?"

"Domeric Bolton." He grinned at her, knowing that she was fond of Lord Bolton’s heir.

She laughed, clapping her hands together. "Domeric! Oh father that's wonderful! He and I can go racing in the Kingswood. "

"By the time he arrives you will be close to birthing your child,” he cautioned.

"Then it shall be sooner until he and I can race."

He shook his head. "You are, as ever, my wild she wolf. I am happy for your pregnancy, it is a joy to see my children continue the family legacy."

"Thank you father. You remind me, a letter arrived from Brandon. Lady Catelyn is with child as well. You shall have two more grandchildren before the year is out."

"More," he muttered quietly. Until the existence of his first grandchild was hidden from everyone. "That is another matter."

She pursed her lips, choosing her words with care. "Will you be meeting with Lady Dayne today?"

"Aye, she and I shall discuss the future between our households." He had yet to discuss the matter in great detail with anyone and it already wearied him.

"It isn't right," she muttered.

"It is for the best sweetling, and it is none of your concern."

She stood in front of him, moving her arms emphatically. "But it is! Ned is my brother and the child...”

"Is a matter for myself and Lady Dayne to discuss." His tone spoke to the finality of the matter and she unhappily let it rest.

They continued on quietly for a short while until they reached his chambers. "I believe this is where you are staying. It would be a pleasure to spend time on the morrow with you. I shall have to ask Daeron what meal he believes we would be available to share with you, though I would gladly share them all with you."

He smiled at her, kissing her cheeks. "And I would gladly share all of mine with you. For now I must rest and prepare for my meeting with the Daynes."

*************************

"But I want to be there," Lyanna was pleading. She had managed to find Ned on his way to the meeting with the Daynes. "Perhaps I may sway them otherwise."

Eddard Stark regarded his sister with weary solemnity. "Would that you could, but if father cannot then we must honor the wishes of Lord and Lady Dayne. This will protect Ashara's reputation. You would do well to protect your own reputation Lya."

"I can't believe you are just accepting this!"

He stiffened at the surge of rage which flowed through him. "Do you think this is easy for me? Allyria is my daughter and they are going to keep her ignorant of that. Yet here you stand, acting as though it harms you more than anyone else. Do you ever consider who your own actions have harmed?"

"Why would I when everyone feels the need to remind me daily of my impulsivity! Shall I reject my marriage and child? Shall I traverse time so that I can make everyone happy? Am I responsible for you taking Ashara to bed or for Rhaegar giving me those accursed roses? I must be for everyone seeks to blame me for the actions of others! I shall apologize to Lord Baratheon for breaking our betrothal when my lord husband believes it is appropriate. I have sought forgiveness from father and Brandon as well as from the King and Queen. What more can I do!"

Ned pulled his sister into his arms and whispered soothing words so that she might calm. "Nothing, there is nothing that either of us can do."

She quieted after a few moments, and pulled away, shaking her head. "I'm sorry Ned. I should not make this about myself. I worry for you and Lady Ashara."

"I know. We will speak more later."

She pressed a kiss to his cheek and squeezed his hand before leaving him in the long corridor by himself. He continued on his way to the drawing room where he would meet with his future. When he arrived, he seated himself beside his father. Across the table were seated Lord and Lady Dayne with their daughter Ashara and the babe which Ashara held in her arms. At the head of the table sat Prince Rhaegar who sat as mediator for their discussions. Ser Arthur Dayne stood behind the Prince, near to his younger sister. Princess Elia Martell sat opposite her husband, also mediating the discussion.

Ned mostly looked at his hands in his lap while his father and Lady Aliandra Dayne spoke. At times, Ned would look up, carefully studying the faces of Ashara and their daughter. He noticed that she would do much the same. He also saw the occasional glares of Ser Arthur, pointedly aimed at him.

The discussion did not last very long, their parents had already reached most of their decisions before arriving in King's Landing. In order to uphold the honor of both Ashara and Eddard, they would be wed to one another. Their daughter would be called the child of Lord and Lady Dayne so that her bastardy was not known.

Lyanna was right, it wasn't fair that he and Ashara would not keep their daughter. But little Allyria would be raised as a trueborn daughter of House Dayne, a much better fate than living as a bastard. In time she might even be told the truth.

Ned and Ashara spoke little throughout the meeting, theirs was to listen and obey the decisions of their parents. Given everything that Lyanna had done, Ned knew his father could use one less scandal amongst his children. So when the meeting was ended it was agreed that Ned and Ashara would be wedded at the end of the week. Afterward, they would become part of either Prince Rhaegar or Prince Daeron's households. Not that there was much division between the two households as both spent much time together.

Two hours after the meeting had begun, it came to an end. Their parents were dismissed while the Prince and Princess remained with Ned, Ashara, their daughter, and Ser Arthur.

Ashara looked up at him, her eyes wet with unshed tears. “Come hold her Ned, while there is still time.”

He stood and walked around the table, seating himself beside Ashara. “She’s beautiful.”

“She’s perfect,” she whispered, placing a gentle kiss to their daughter’s head. Ashara then placed Allyria in Ned’s arms.

She was so small and light in his arms. With dark brown hair and pale violet eyes, no one would think she was not a Dayne. She was not frightened by Ned holding her, though he was a stranger. Instead, she touched his face with curiosity, giggling at his smiles.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured.

Ashara looked at him, hurt and confused. “For what?”

“For the shame I have brought upon you. That Allyria must be parted from you.”

Her smile was weary. “It is no shame to bring life into the world, though I wish more believed as I do. She will have a happy life at Starfall.” Her voice began to break as she spoke. She looked to Princess Elia, pleading with her eyes. A moment later Elia walked to Rhaegar and whispered in his ear. The two swiftly departed with Ser Arthur.

Ashara’s voice broke as a sob escaped her lips. “I want to keep her Ned. I want to hear her first words and see her first steps. It’s not fair. And yet I would still see her be my trueborn sister and not bear the scorn of being a bastard.”

Ned reached out a hand to her and she grasped it with her own. “I would love to see those moments with her as well.” Their daughter’s cooing broke the sorrowful spell into which they had fallen, causing both Ned and Ashara to laugh.

“I am glad that we are to wed,” Ned told her as he bounced Allyria on his knees.

“I am glad of that as well.” She touched his face tenderly. “I am pleased that I shall be your wife. Though we are losing our daughter... by the gods it hurts more than anything. I do not regret having met you or pursuing you at the tourney. I do not regret making our daughter.”

He mirrored her action, caressing her cheek with one hand while he supported their daughter with the other. “I do not regret our actions either.”

*************************

"Your grace," the steward announced. "Lady Elesham requests to speak with you." His tone at the word “lady” left no doubt to his true feelings of distaste for Alyssa Elesham.

Rhaella’s eyes narrowed. Why would the girl seek an audience with her? She set aside her needlework. "You may send her in."

He bowed and turned to let the girl in the room. He returned a few moments later, trailed by Alyssa. She was pale, drawn, and her eyes were red. She had scarcely entered the queen's presence when she fell to her knees and bowed her face low. Her dress was plain, and torn, Rhaella noticed.

"You wish to have an audience with me?" Rhaella’s tone was even and dispassionate, she had no emotion for the girl, either positive or negative.

"Yes, your grace," she whispered. She did not raise her eyes. "I know that I have little right to speak with you, to ask anything of you, however I pray that you will grant me permission to speak with you alone."

Rhaella considered the matter for several moments before she dismissed everyone who was in the room. "Speak child," she said when they were alone. "There is no one here who will overhear us. Save perhaps Ser Barristan who guards my door."

Alyssa raised her head slowly. "Send me from here, my queen. I beg you, please send me from here."

"What troubles you that you beg me to send you away?"

"I am with child."

Her words were spoken so quietly that Rhaella had scarcely heard them. "Are you certain?"

"Yes my queen; I have not bled for two moons. I fear the king. While I have seen his bastard daughters, there are rumors that he has no further bastards because they were killed. Your grace, please do not allow this babe to be killed. I swear to you that it shall never bring harm against your children. Only let us live, I beg."

The girl was shaking. Her tears blinded her eyes.

"Gael and Saera are not the King's only bastards,” Rhaella replied slowly. “There are two others, girls. They live with their mothers who were married to knights of their fathers’ houses so that their disgrace may be hidden. So it shall also be with you. You will be wed to a knight in your father's house. The child shall be his. If you are wise the child, male or female, will never know the truth of its birth. A dowry shall be paid to you by the crown. You will be returned to the Vale this very night."

A strangled cry escaped her lips. "Thank you your grace."

Rhaella’s gaze was cool and passionless. "Be careful of your thanks Lady Alyssa, should that child be a boy and any breath of treason be heard, you and your father's house will be put to death."

The trembling girl met the queen's gaze. "I swear that this child will never be used against the crown, my queen. We shall ever remain loyal."

"Be sure you keep that promise. Now go; return to your rooms, and pack your possessions. You will be leaving on the evening tide."

"Your grace." Alyssa bowed her head low again before she stood and fled the room.

The steward entered again, followed by Ser Barristan. She spoke to them alone, outlining the plan for Lady Alyssa's departure. They knew the routine, they had done it before. The first time had been Bethany Hayford, Gael’s mother, though Gael had later been returned to the Red Keep when Bethany died. The second was Gwyneth Algood, whose daughter Tyra had been born in 279. Eleanor Chelstead had followed the next year with her daughter Mayelle.

That only four mistresses had birthed children was a relief. Tyanne Fell, Aerys’ first mistress, had always used moon tea. Brella Rosby never quickened. Shiera Farring had reigned as mistress from 265 until 273, dying shortly after Saera had been born. Jocelyn Hayford had followed, the sister to Bethany Hayford, she had quickened but had died of rheumatic fever during her pregnancy. Rosamund Bracken had used moon tea. Arwyn Massey never quickened. Sybell Langward used moon tea as well. Each woman, when the Aerys had tired of them, had been returned to their father’s houses and married off with better dowries than if they had been maidens.

With Alyssa Elesham, returning her to the Paps would be easiest and swiftest by sea. A letter and a sum of gold would accompany the girl. The letter to Lord Elesham would state that young Alyssa would need to be married swiftly. Lord Elesham would do it, they always did.

When all was said and done, Rhaella returned to her normal duties, and prayed that the young woman would birth a daughter.

*************************

Dressed in black and red, Lyanna Stark felt as though she were a perfect Targaryen Princess. She hoped that she would be seen as an example. She did not want to be remembered as the girl who ran away with a prince. She needed to be more, for the child she carried, for her father, for Daeron.

The evening’s feast would be held in honor of Rhaegar and his son. The two heirs to the throne. Though Aemon had been born many months earlier, the royal family had waited to hold the feast. Not that waiting to celebrate a newborn was terribly uncommon, babes often died young.

They were all announced to the assembly as they entered the hall. King Aerys and Queen Rhaella entered first. Then Prince Rhaegar with Princess Elia and their children. Princess Rhaenys walked between her parents, while Prince Aemon was held in his mother's arms. Daeron escorted Lyanna, it was their first royal appearance aside from when she had been crowned and welcomed to the family. Behind them walked Aegon, Jahaerys, and Viserys, all doing their best to emulate their elder brothers.

The feast was a delight, and much wine was drunk in honor of the ever expanding Targaryen family. Lyanna and Daeron were wished well for their marriage and the future child which Lyanna carried. Hours later, the children were escorted to their chambers. They were all still too young for the extravagances of court life, but some day they too would join the dances and drinking.

Lyanna noticed her father and brother seemed to be enjoying themselves. Even with the impending departure of the Daynes, Ned and his new wife Ashara were smiling. So too was Lady Lysa, for all of her timidity, seeking out people with whom she could dance and laugh.

Rhaegar and Daeron led the dances, pulling Lyanna and Elia to the floor. They all loved to dance, and enjoyed the swift pace of the music. The pregnancy made her stop long before she was ready, but still she enjoyed watching. She watched as her brother and father spun in the dances, switching partners as the dances required. She found herself wishing that her father could find joy in a wife again. It was strange, she had never thought that he should remarry until quite recently. Perhaps her happiness with Daeron had awakened a desire to see that same happiness in others.

For a time Rhaegar played his harp, quieting the rowdy bunch before he joined the dancers again.

It was late in the evening when the smiles died. King Aerys began to shout at Queen Rhaella, though her reply was hushed. Lyanna felt Daeron tense beside her, and she felt sick.

That was when Aerys hit his sister, his wife, his queen, and the room fell deathly silent. He grabbed her arm hard, pulling her to her feet and pulling her from the room.

Rhaegar fled in the opposite direction, followed by Ser Arthur. Leaving Elia, Daeron, and Lyanna to calm their guests.

"My lords and ladies," Elia announced. "I pray that you will not be alarmed. It seems that their graces have had a disagreement but I am certain that it will be resolved. Please, continue enjoying yourselves."

Her tone was calm, placating, quite nearly the same tone she used when speaking to the children. She ordered the minstrels to continue their songs and smiled thinly at the crowds. She then approached Lyanna and Daeron as the room began to buzz with whispers.

"Can you take over as hosts," she asked. "I must see to Rhaegar."

"Yes," Lyanna replied, her mouth dry.

"We will do our duty," Daeron replied, his tone curt and mirthless.

*************************

Elia found her husband where she knew he would be, in the training yard with Ser Arthur. They were quite a sight to see. Both men swinging their practice blades with such ferocity that the sound echoed across the courtyards. Her husband, the crowned prince, who had left his younger brother to tend their guests while the king abused his queen. No one would dare raise a hand to Aerys. Though she knew Rhaegar wished that he could.

She seated herself upon a bench near the men and watched. On a normal day, Ser Arthur would win swiftly. When Rhaegar was furious... it seemed the fight would not end. She did hope that they would not kill one another on accident. Each of the men were very skilled, though Arthur was the better sword. Rhaegar only fought as was necessary. Unless he wanted to show off. Unless he was angry.

She lost track of time watching the men. It seemed ages before Ser Arthur finally defeated Rhaegar. Her husband went to his knees, exhausted.

"You still fight well, my lord," she said quietly.

Rhaegar turned to her, startled. Ser Arthur bowed gracefully to her, unsurprised at her presence.

Rhaegar stood and walked to her. "My lady, I did not see you. You must be cold."

"A little, though it is no great matter. I am pleased that you have not killed one another."

"Ser Arthur is too skilled a swordsman to allow harm to befall either myself or himself. Arthur, would you mind putting away our blades while I speak with my wife?"

"Of course not, your grace." With a respectful bow, he picked up both blades and walked the few paces to the racks where the training gear was stored. He was still close enough that he could watch the prince and princess of Dragonstone.

"Have you been here long?"

"I have been here since shortly after you arrived."

"The feast?"

"I fed the guests platitudes and left the affair to Daeron and Lyanna."

"But they are so young."

"They are old enough to know how to host a feast. If all else fails the stewards likely helped and Lord Rickard was present if his daughter needed assistance. How are you faring?"

He clenched his jaw tight. "If the king were not my father..." His voice was low and harsh.

She rested a soothing hand upon his arm. "Hush, my love, such words are ill spoken."

He cupped her cheek with one hand, his fingers trembling as they traced gentle paths across her cheek. "I will never hurt you as he hurts her. I swear that to you."

"You have never harmed me. I know you never will. Some day you will be a good king. You are a good eldest brother, a good father, and a good husband."

"And a terrible son."

"You cannot protect her from him."

"It seems that no one can. What sort of king will I be if I cannot even protect my mother?"

She caressed his cheek and placed a kiss upon his brow. She had no answer for him that could satisfy his question. "A better king than your father." She shivered, chilled from the night air.

"I am sorry my lady, I have been thoughtless of you. You are cold, let's go inside. The hour is late."

"Will you come to my chambers?"

He hesitated. "What if you should fall pregnant?"

"Do you expect me to become a septa? I am your wife. It is my duty and pleasure to give you comfort. Shall I abandon that duty so that you may keep another? All for the sake of my health? What do the maesters know? They have expected me to die since I was a babe. Yet I have lived and borne two children to the Prince of Dragonstone. If I die birthing a third, then let the gods decide that for me. Until then I would be your wife."

He smiled and kissed her, soft and tender. "You amaze me, my beautiful wife." Taking her by the arm, they walked toward Maegor's Holdfast.


	8. Life and Death

“My brothers miss you,” Rhaegar said while visiting Queen Rhaella in her chambers. Two weeks had passed since the feast, during which the Queen had remained in seclusion.

She looked up at him, her expression distant. “And I miss them. However, I needed my bruises to fade before seeing them again. I would not have them worried over me.”

He was pacing, tension showing in his every movement. “And what of myself or Daeron or the court?”

“The court will whisper as it always has. And you...” She walked to him and gently touched his shoulder. “You and Daeron must carry on as you always have. You must be strong for the future of our country and our family.”

He looked at her, shaking his head. “I do not think that I can endure him much longer.”

She pressed a finger to his lips. “Hush my son, you mustn’t speak like that.”

He stepped back from her, his hands clenched together. “I don’t understand how you expect me to stand quietly by and say nothing, do nothing.”

She reached for him, holding his hands firmly with her own. “Because you are to be king one day, and you must be a good king. I will not have the sins of your father drive you down a path which would stain your reputation.”

He closed his eyes, breathing deeply to calm himself. “I don’t want him to continue hurting you. I cannot bear it.”

Rhaella’s eyes welled with tears and she embraced her son. “I know,” she whispered eventually. “But we cannot do anything against him.” After a few moments she pulled away and forced a tremulous smile. “At least two of your younger brothers will be away from here soon.”

“I’m glad that father agreed.”

“He does still have many good moments, when his mind is clear and he makes wise choices. Even when he is paranoid, he knows that separating our family is safer than having us all remain here.”

Rhaegar agreed with his mother. Very soon his brother Jaehaerys would be traveling to Winterfell with Lord Rickard Stark while his brother Aegon would be going south, to Sunspear. Rhaegar’s wife and children would be travelling south with him, to stay for a few months. News had arrived from Sunspear that Princess Meria, Elia’s mother, had fallen ill and was dying. Rhaegar and Elia both wanted her to be with her family at this time. Rhaegar however would not be accompanying his wife and children, instead he would be journeying with his father to Casterly Rock for an official visit.

“Would that I didn’t have to accompany him on his visitation with Lord Tywin.”

“It is necessary for you to visit the Lords of Westeros, especially men such as Tywin Lannister. Your differences with your father notwithstanding, you need to be a presence in the minds of all our lords.”

He pressed his lips tight together. “I know mother. Though I would rather be with my wife at this time.”

“I know what you desire, but we must all do our duties. Now, shall we go visit with your brothers?”

“Of course,” he agreed. Together they departed from her rooms and walked to the play rooms of his brothers.

When they arrived, they saw the three boys seated at a table with their half-sisters while their tutor lectured them on the history of Valyria. Viserys and Gael wiggled in their seats, too young for lengthy instruction. They looked up at the sound of the door, and the tutor bowed his head.

“Your graces, welcome.”

The three young boys shouted out “mother” with one voice, standing from their chairs and running to her, clinging to her.

“We missed you mother,” Aegon said.

“Serys kept hitting me,” Jaehaerys complained.

“Did not,” pronounced Viserys, as he pushed his brother so that he could be closer to Rhaella.

Rhaella knelt before her sons, pushing the youngest two apart so that they wouldn’t fight. “Enough of that. Viserys, apologize to your brother. I will not have you hitting one another.”

Viserys pouted, kicking at the floor. “Sorry Mother.”

“To your brother,” she commanded.

He turned his brother, and said in a voice that was anything but apologetic, “Sorry.”

With a soft sigh, the Queen of Westeros kissed her three youngest sons and stood, turning briefly to Rhaegar who was smiling. “You were no better at six years old.”

“I hope that I have improved.”

She smiled at him. “Markedly, my son. Maester Cedrik, how are their studies progressing?”

“They are all doing well,” he replied. “When they remain seated and focused. Would that they were all as studious as the Prince of Dragonstone was in his youth.”

“As I remain, good maester,” Rhaegar replied. He looked down at his brothers. “I hope for all of you to become wise and well-learned.” His three little brothers looked up at him, eyes wide with admiration. Each of them swore that they wanted to be just like their eldest brother when they were grown.

* * *

The outer yard of the Red Keep was filled with courtiers and guards awaiting the departures of most of the royal family and several other lords, each travelling to a different regions of Westeros. All farewells had been said, and now the travelers mounted horses and entered carriages, ready to depart for north, west, and south.

Queen Rhaella Targaryen watched with an anxious heart as three of her five sons prepared to leave. Jaehaerys boarded his carriage beside Lord Rickard Stark, he was doing his best to be brave, though he looked constantly to the rest of his family, knowing that he was to be parted from them all. Aegon was faring better, sharing his carriage with Elia, Rhaenys, and little Aemon. Rhaella knew it would take her son a day or so to miss the rest of his family, and that he would be heartbroken when Elia returned with her children to King’s Landing. Rhaella’s heart ached for the days when her sons would be alone in Winterfell and Sunspear, but knew it was for the best.

She watched Rhaegar kiss Elia farewell before she settled in her carriage and he mounted his horse. Rhaella knew that their parting would be difficult. She thanked the gods, not for the first time, that her eldest sons were happy in their marriages, and that they found joy with their partners which Rhaella would never know.

She felt nothing as she looked at Aerys where he sat upon his horse, flanked by guards and four of the Kingsguard. One of the Kingsguard would accompany Princess Elia and her children to Dorne while the other two would remain in King’s Landing to guard herself, Daeron, and Viserys.

Guards led the way out of the gates, followed by the Kingsguard, King Aerys, and Prince Rhaegar. Lord Rickard Stark and his men were next, along with her son’s carriage. Rhaella squared her shoulders and clenched her jaw. She couldn’t break, not now, no matter how much she wanted her children to remain with her. The carriages carrying Elia and Lady Dayne departed next.

A sob beside her broke her concentration. She turned to the side where Viserys, Daeron, Lyanna, Eddard Stark, and his wife Lady Ashara stood. Ashara was the one sobbing, burying her face against her husband’s chest as he held her close. Rhaella empathized with the young woman... to lose a child was the deepest pain imaginable. Though Ashara’s daughter lived, they would be parted for a very long time. Eddard stroked his wife’s hair and back to comfort her as she trembled.

They stood together until the carriages moved beyond view. They moved away slowly afterward. Lyanna and Daeron walked one way while Eddard and Ashara walked another. Rhaella chose to take Viserys to play with his half-sisters, at least there he would not be so lonely for his brothers. Some day he too would have to be fostered elsewhere, though where had yet to be determined. There were many lords who would be good for fostering her youngest son, Lords Tyrell, Tully, and Arryn were the first who came to mind. Perhaps, one day, Viserys would be at home with one of those families.

* * *

Princess of Blackwater, Lyanna Stark, sewed delicate stitches on the edges of the blanket she was making for her babe. The time was short, she knew, only a month or so until her child would enter the world. She was both nervous and excited to meet the child she could feel growing within her. She knew that Daeron was just as excited to meet their child. And yet... she feared losing the child or her life in the process.

She looked up at her companions in the room, seeing how strange a group of they were. Barbrey Dustin, who had been her brother Brandon’s lover. Lysa Tully, who was the younger sister to Brandon’s wife. Ashara Stark, her brother Ned’s wife and Princess Elia’s dearest friend. Maia Sunglass, Rowena Royce, Aemma Belmore, and Myranda Wylde who were Elia’s companions who had remained while the Princess was in Dorne. Willow Hayford and Helaena Farring were younger sisters of King Aerys’ former mistresses, and aunts to Gael and Saera respectively. Lyanna was given them as companions so that they would spend as little time around Queen Rhaella as possible.

Her other companions were from Northern Houses: Jeyne Cassel, Jonelle Cerwyn, Arya Karstark, Arrana Flint, and Sarra Tallhart. Some of them were less refined than Lyanna herself while others were quite proper. Lyanna was glad of her northern companions, especially Arrana who was the least tame of all her companions.

Still, strange as it was, Lyanna missed Elia Martell. The Princess of Dragonstone was sweet and even tempered, always willing to instruct without scolding. She felt both out of her element beside the future queen and at the same time, she felt safe with her.

Princess Elia and Queen Rhaella had both offered her countless hours of instruction on how to run a royal household. Though Lyanna had assisted with the running of Winterfell since her mother’s death, life in the royal court was vastly different. Winterfell was safe, welcoming. King’s Landing was a den of vipers, waiting for someone to slip so that they could strike. Even so, the Queen and Princess of Dragonstone were able to show Lyanna how to survive and thrive in the Royal Court.

She laid aside her stitching and walked to Ashara, who was writing a letter. She seated herself beside her brother’s wife and laid out a parchment of her own. She missed Benjen, and wanted to tell him of all the things she was doing in King’s Landing. She hoped that father might one day send Ben to her, but doubted that he would.

She glanced at Ashara’s writing and saw that she was writing to her family. Not having written a word, Lyanna looked up. “How are you faring?”

Ashara managed a light smile. “Well as can be expected. My parents have written that Ally is doing well. I shouldn’t complain. I am glad to have Ned, and that Ally will have a good life. My mother has promised that she will be sent here when she is older so that she might be a cupbearer and spend some of her years with us.”

Lyanna laid an encouraging hand on Ashara’s arm. “That’s good news.”

“It is, though the years from now ‘til then will be a torment. While Ned and I do hope for more children, they cannot take her place.”

Lyanna moved her hands to her belly, feeling her child move gently within her. She couldn’t imagine being parted from this little one, and he or she had yet to be born into the world. “No,” she agreed, “one child doesn’t replace another.”

Ashara gave her a kind smile before returning to her letter. Lyanna meanwhile stared at her blank parchment, not knowing where to begin. She had already written to Ben about the awkward meeting with her father, husband, and former betrothed. The meeting had been unpleasant, with Robert sorely offended at her elopement and Daeron offended by Robert’s offense. In the end, Robert left with a sum of gold and a formal apology.

She tapped her fingers on the table, the only words in her head to write being the introduction to the letter. A series of “your graces” being said caused Lyanna to turn her head. Queen Rhaella stood at the entry to the room, robed in dark blue with a slim gold circlet upon her brow.

“Princess Lyanna, I wish to speak with you,” the Queen said.

Lyanna laid aside her quill and stood. “Of course, your grace.”

She walked to the Queen, who took her by the arm and walked with her from the room. “How are your ladies?”

“They are all doing well. Willow and Helaena are a trial, though I know for the sake of Gael and Saera they must be endured. Some of the Northern ladies are still growing accustomed to how different the capital is from their homes, though they seem happy most of the time. Even Lysa has improved since her childhood friend from the Vale has arrived.”

“Petyr Baelish, former ward to Hoster Tully until he ran into some troubles with the Tullys if my recollections are correct.”

“They are,” she replied. “He challenged my brother Brandon for Lady Catelyn’s hand in marriage. Brandon nearly killed Petyr.”

Rhaella considered her with concern. “You allowed a young man into your household who acted against your own brother?”

“He can do no harm to my brother’s marriage, Lady Catelyn is well with child at Winterfell. Daeron and I also asked my father’s approval for him to come. The entire idea was Lysa’s initially. I asked her what would make her happy, and she asked if Petyr could join our household. He is a clever young man, and Daeron believes that he could assist with managing our household finances in the future.”

Rhaella shook her head. “I will not forbid his presence, though I do think that you should be careful with him.”

“We will be, my Queen.” They walked to the end of the hall in relative quiet. “Did you wish to speak with me only of my ladies and household or was there some other matter of which you wanted to speak?”

A smile flitted on the Queen’s lips. “I wished to speak with you about several matters. I sent a raven today to Casterly Rock, to the King and to Rhaegar. I planned to speak next with you and Daeron, though my son has been busy with the Council and courtiers all day. I am with child.”

Lyanna gasped and pulled away. “Oh, that’s wonderful! Congratulations your grace.”

“I thank you, though I would hold any celebration until the babe is born. I have lost so many.”

Her heart broke for the Queen. She did not want to imagine losing a single child. “How do you endure it?”

The Queen’s smile was soft and melancholy. “You focus on the living, sweetling.”

Lyanna forced herself to smile, though her worries over her own pregnancy only increased after speaking with the Queen.

* * *

“Two days,” Prince Daeron Targaryen muttered, pacing the floor. “She has labored for two days now, surely the maesters and midwives can do something to quicken the birth?”

Queen Rhaella looked up at her son with a wan smile. “Nothing speeds up or slows down birthing. The maesters have said that she is still strong, and you have seen her to know that is true. Now rest, my son, or sit beside your wife. Your fretting helps none.”

He ran a hand through his silvery hair. “She yelled at me to leave, shouting that it was my fault.” Eddard Stark laughed lightly at the Prince’s words, amused. “You laugh, but do you not worry over your sister?”

“Of course I worry,” Ned replied, looking to him from the letter he was writing. “She is my little sister and I cannot imagine a world without her. However, all that I can do is wait, which is all that you can do.”

Daeron stopped pacing, exhaustion showing in every movement of his body. “I simply want her to be at ease, holding our child in her arms.”

Rhaella stood, laying aside the ledgers she had been reading. “I am certain that she wants little else.” She cupped her son’s cheek. “Rest, you have not slept since Lyanna’s labor pains began. You will know immediately if there is any change.”

He looked from his mother to his wife’s brother. “Will you go to her Ned?” Ned considered him with weary eyes. “I know that you have just come from her side, but I know that your presence will make her happier.”

“I will attend her if the maesters allow,” he replied.

“Of course they will allow you to stay with her,” Daeron insisted. “It is my will that you are there.”

With few more words, Ned agreed to go, and parted from the Queen and Prince with a bow of his head. Daeron left his mother a few moments later, finding his way to his room. He drifted asleep uneasily, worn, exhausted, and anxious.

He later awoke with a start when one of the servants touched his arm.

“What happened,” he mumbled. “Is Lyanna, the babe?”

“I was sent by the maesters to bring you to her, your grace,” the man replied.

Daeron jumped out of the bed, his clothing and hair disheveled. He all but ran from the room, wanting to see his wife, to know if she had safely birthed their child. He arrived at his wife’s birthing chamber, where he saw Lyanna upon the bed, her head resting upon her brother’s chest as he helped her cradle a small bundle.

Her weary face lightened when she saw him. “Daeron,” she rasped. “Come see our son.”

“A son?” He walked to her, trembling. He sat beside her, reaching for her with one hand and toward the tiny baby with the other. The dark-haired boy was asleep, nestled close between Lyanna and Ned.

“He has your eyes,” she murmured.

He smiled at her, touching the soft hair atop their son’s head. The boy was so small. He felt more love in that moment than he could ever have imagined. He looked to Lyanna, her eyes closing, her face pale and drawn. “Are you well?”

Ned was the one to answer, as Lyanna drifted asleep. “The maesters said that she is doing well, though she is exhausted. They left an hour ago, and have been trying to wake you for more than two hours, your grace.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Two hours?” He hoped that Lyanna would forgive him for sleeping through so many attempts to wake him.

“Lyanna told them to let you sleep.” Ned looked down at his sister. He moved his nephew so that the boy lay upon her chest. “She needs it as well.” Ned considered him briefly. “Why don’t we switch positions?”

Daeron agreed, and the two men gently shifted Lyanna from her position against Ned to resting against Daeron. When she was settled, Ned stood, smiling at the trio.

“I will leave you three alone.”

The prince smiled at his good-brother. “Thank you, for being here with her.”

“She’s my little sister; I would do anything for her.” He looked at Lyanna and the babe again before leaving the room.

Daeron caressed his son’s cheek with a single finger. It was hard to imagine that this tiny life he and Lyanna had made together. He noticed one of the nursemaids across the room, and knew that she would tend to the infant should the need arise. He closed his eyes, exhausted but content, thinking of his son.

He knew the name his son would bear. They had spent hours over the preceding months pouring through the names in the Stark and Targaryen family trees, choosing the perfect name for a son or a daughter. They had finally agreed upon a name which had been borne by a King and an Heir of Dragonstone, Baelor.

“Welcome to the world,” Daeron whispered. “Prince Baelor Targaryen.”

* * *

The days at Casterly Rock dragged on with no end seeming to be in sight. Prince Rhaegar Targaryen missed his wife and children. He wished that he could be with Elia while she mourned her mother’s loss. A few more months and they would be together again at King’s Landing and then they could depart for Dragonstone if they chose. Or, they could remain in King’s Landing with his family until his mother was to term with her pregnancy. He had rejoiced at the news that a new prince had been born and that another brother or sister was expected soon. He wished that he could be with them instead of with his father and the Lannisters.

He dreaded the evening meals where Lord Tywin Lannister would parade his daughter Cersei before him as though she were a prize to be won. Rhaegar had no interest in the young woman, though clearly his father found her to be engaging. King Aerys was presently sharing the midday meal with her, alone, likely attempting to claim her as his latest mistress. He hoped that she wouldn't be so foolish to agree with the King's desires.

He was reading when Sers Barristan Selmy and Oswell Whent entered the room, out of breath.

“Your grace,” said Ser Oswell, his voice tense. “The King, your father, he's dead.”

He stared at them, uncomprehending. “What?”

Ser Barristan spoke up, trying to remain calm. “He dined alone with Lady Cersei, and ordered everyone from the room. When the time came for the guard to change, we found Ser Jaime and his sister in the room and the king dead upon the floor. We came here at once, Gerold Hightower and Jon Connington are guarding them. They refused to speak.”

Rhaegar moved without speaking, numb with disbelief. He picked up his sword, strapped it to his waist, and followed Ser Oswell from the room while Ser Barristan walked behind him. At the dining chamber, Gerold Hightower opened the door for him.

Entering the room, he stared for ages at the scene before him. His father lay dead upon the floor in a pool of his own blood, the stench of it was overwhelming. Ser Jaime's sword lay on the ground near the dead king. In the corner of the room, Ser Jaime and his sister Cersei were huddled together, his bloodied cloak wrapped around her. She was crying and shaking, while Jaime stared mutely toward the doorway.

“Leave us,” Rhaegar said. When he realized that his guards weren't moving, he turned to them. “Ser Barristan may remain if that will allay your fears.” His guards complied, closing the door behind them.

Barristan remained beside the door, his hand upon the hilt of his sword. Rhaegar walked further into the room, and stood over the corpse of his father. He felt empty in that moment, a detached sense of nothingness filled his mind. He noticed that the sword was clean, other than where it touched the pool of blood. A knife, likely from the dinner, was covered in blood on the table. The chairs, food, and dishes were all in disarray.

He approached the Lannister twins, and saw them shudder at his steps. “Stand,” he commanded. “Tell me everything.”

“I did it,” Jaime said, so quickly that his sister couldn't contain her shock. He stood, helping his sister to stand with him.

The sight of their clothes did not match his statement. Her dress was bloody from her hands to her bodice, while he was only bloodied where he had been holding her. Her cheek was bruised, her hair was askew, and her gown bore tears in the fabric which seemed to be from a struggle.

Rhaegar observed them closely, and the story to him seemed clear without any words. “Ser Barristan, call for two maids to be escorts for Lady Cersei and have Ser Connington accompany them to my drawing room. He is to keep her and the maids there. No one is to know of this matter until I choose to disclose it.”

“Of course, your grace.”

Rhaegar watched Ser Barristan Selmy speak to the guards outside the door. He stared at the door, unseeing, while his orders were carried out. He turned to the twins, and saw Ser Jaime securing his cloak around his sister. When he was done, the blood which covered her body was mostly concealed. Turning back to the door, Rhaegar saw that Ser Barristan had laid his cloak across King Aerys’ body. He stared at the reddening cloak while they waited.

“They are here, your grace,” Ser Gerold said, cracking the door so that none could look within.

Rhaegar looked again at Cersei Lannister, her tears were dried, but her eyes were still filled with terror. “Go child,” he told her. “You will be safe.”

She bowed her head to him, silent, taking a step forward. Jaime caught her hands, and whispered in her ear. She nodded at his words, and stepped away when he released her.  Rhaegar followed her with his eyes until she left the room.

“Ser Barristan, leave the room.”

He hesitated, worried. “Your grace...”

“Now, Ser, I shall be safe... and I shall not act rashly.”

Ser Barristan bowed his head briefly before he turned and closed the door behind him. Alone, Rhaegar turned to Jaime Lannister. “Tell me the truth, Ser Jaime, and don’t say again that you slew my father.”

Jaime’s eyes fell to the floor before he gathered the courage to look up. “I must say that I did it.”

“Must?” He laughed harshly. “My father is dead and I need to know what happened!”

“I... I was guarding the door alone. Ser Gerold and I were outside the door, but he left to relieve himself. He said that we shouldn’t fear, the King was just dining. She screamed. I opened the door. They struggled, and...” He shook his head, staring at his hands. “I held him away from her.”

“And she killed him,” Rhaegar finished.

He stumbled across his words as he spoke again. “He... the king... your father... he tried to... to...”

“He tried to rape your sister.”

Jaime nodded briskly. “He called her Joanna.”

He spoke so softly that Rhaegar at first didn’t understand what the young knight had said, but as the words sank in, he shuddered. Rhaegar studied Jaime quietly. The boy would do anything for his sister, including die for her. But could Rhaegar couldn’t live with himself if he executed Jaime for this, nor did he wish to begin his reign in this fashion.

He was the King now. The realization struck him so forcefully that breathing seemed impossible.

“I know that you would die for your sister,” Rhaegar said. “But I cannot condemn you to death for your actions. Neither would I condemn her for protecting herself. I am the King now. My duty is to protect the innocent in my realm. However, I cannot ignore that my father lies dead upon the floor in a pool of his own blood.”

Jaime went to one knee, his head bowed. “Whatever you think best, my king.”

Rhaegar watched the young man, his brother Daeron’s friend. He considered all of his options and knew that none of them were desirable, not when the cause of his father’s death was the eldest children of Tywin Lannister. His father was dead... and yet he felt nothing.

His mind wandered, far away. He was on Dragonstone, a young boy, running along the pebbled shore with his sister. Shaena was spirited, daring. They ran in and out of the waves with Daeron as the guards watched. Their father was at King’s Landing with their mother and Aegon, Jaehaerys was not yet born. Shaena dared them to swim out into the waves, and Rhaegar agreed. Daeron hesitated, afraid of the waves. Rhaegar swam with her. She outpaced him, swimming faster and further, and then she went under. He thought she was playing, but she didn’t resurface. He shouted her name, panicking the longer she was gone. Gerold Hightower was the one to drag him out of the waves, and back to shore. Shaena’s body surfaced two days later.

“I had a sister,” Rhaegar said. “I would have done anything for her. I tried to save her, but I was powerless. I see that you would do the same for your sister, and your punishment will give you that chance.” Jaime looked up at him, timid but less fearful. “You and your sister will be sentenced to exile. For the rest of your lives, you will not be allowed to set foot in Westeros again. If you do, you will be considered traitors and executed. Should you or Cersei have children, they may come to Westeros in peace. Your brother Tyrion will become a ward of the crown.”

“My father will not think Tyrion a worthwhile hostage.”

“Your father is a proud man. He will not like any of this, however he will either submit to my terms or watch the execution of his children, and we both know that he would never allow such an action.”

Jaime bowed his head. “As you will, your grace.” He looked up again a moment later, tentative. “Please, be kind to Tyrion.”

Rhaegar was struck by Jaime’s compassion. “I will,” he promised.

“If I may ask one more thing, your grace?”

“You may.”

“Can you tell Prince Daeron that I will miss him? I am sorry, the King, he was your father.”

Rhaegar looked at the blood-soaked cloak which covered his father's body. “He was my father, and now he is dead. I will tell Daeron that you will miss him. I know that he will be saddened by your exile.”

With no further words to say, and his judgements made, Rhaegar Targaryen sent Ser Jaime Lannister from the room, escorted by Ser Barristan. Rhaegar would need to speak with Lord Tywin later and ensure that the twins were sent into exile. He would also need to have preparations made for his father’s body.

That night, after all matters were finished regarding Lord Tywin Lannister and his children, the halls of Casterly Rock resounded with the call of succession.

“The King is dead. Long live the King.”


End file.
